Little Brothers
by OneDarkandStormyNight
Summary: Phineas knew that he was rotten at comfort-giving, but this was Ferb, and Ferb had been dumped by that stupid girl whose name he couldn't even recall because she was just that dull, and Ferb deserved to know how truly fantastic he was. NOT SLASH. Teenfic


_Holy Zarqwan, a thousand apologies for taking soooooo long to update anything. I swear if my laptop doesn't get fixed by this weekend I will TP the trees outside the company. Or something else drastic.  
Anyway, I wrote this because 1: Ferb seems like the kind of guy who could fall in love a bit too quickly, 2: Phineas seems like the kind of guy who would get all flustered and spill his guts in a babbly sort of way if he got angry enough, and 3: I adore them both. Like, more than is healthy.  
And yes, I'm aware the title is random. Thank you and read._

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**Little Brothers**

It was ridiculous.

That's what it was in Phineas' opinion. It was totally, utterly, and completely _loony_.

It was loony that _that girl_, who had a bad reputation for being a simpleminded brat, who had been given a free chance to prove otherwise despite the rumors, who really _wasn't_ all that fantastic anyway, would dump the one person in Danville who actually _liked_ her. And dump him in such a cruel and totally shallow way, too. Over the phone. In less than five minutes.

It was insane. She was insane.

He repeated it in his head three times for good measure.

But then, that wasn't the worst part, he decided. The worst part was having to hear it from his own girlfriend, who had heard it from Ginger, who had heard it from Baljeet, who had heard it from Buford, who had heard it from Candace, who had heard it from Jeremy, who had been with Ferb when it happened.

He'd given Isabella a quick goodbye peck to the cheek (it was still slightly awkward to be kissing her, since he'd never thought about her as anything more than a good friend until only a few months ago; even if he was now positive that she was, undeniably, the perfect girl for him, there was still that little voice that declared she was his best friend from across the street…but then, he wasn't worried, because that voice was fading with every passing moment with her ). She'd nodded understandably as he rushed out of the house, reminding him to _hug Ferb for me!_ as he took off down the neighborhood street as fast as he could run.

He charged up the stairs, for once completely ignoring his mother as she greeted him from the kitchen with a "Back so soon, Phineas?" He almost stumbled over the upstairs rug, but leapt over the hazardous wrinkle easily, landing quietly in front of their shut bedroom door.

(The day Phineas had turned thirteen, their parents offered to clean out their father's exercise room, which had never once been used, so that the boys could have their own rooms as teenagers. They only asked that once, for both Phineas and Ferb made it clear that the other's presence was not, nor would it ever be, an inconvenience.)

Phineas gulped for air as he wracked his brain. He knew Ferb knew he was outside the door; Ferb had even better hearing than their mom—just another thing to add to the list of Ferb's extraordinary qualities—and he was probably in there right now, waiting silently for his brother to come in, knowing that Phineas knew, because nothing would bring him home from Isabella's so soon unless it was to do with Ferb's wellbeing . But what would Phineas say?

He frowned, something he did rarely, but right now he was frustrated with himself. It seemed like Ferb always knew exactly what to do in these types of situations, while Phineas preferred to avoid them altogether, for he had long-since decided he was positively no good at this stuff. Not that he didn't appreciate a good heart-to-heart every once in a while; he wasn't unfeeling, not by a long stretch. He just, for lack of a better word, _sucked_ at empathy. Give him someone who needs some picking up, and Phineas Flynn will motivate him to go all the way to the moon on an umbrella. Give him someone who needs a big hug and some sensitive poetry, and he's lost until someone clues him in.

But this was Ferb, he reminded himself firmly, and Ferb was his brother, and his best friend, and had never let him down. He owed it to him to do his best; even if he only made things worse, at least his brother would recognize that he _tried_ to help, and maybe that would make it a little better.

So he inhaled a deep breath, threw his small shoulders back, and opened the door.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was much darker than usual; the curtains were pulled over the windows, blocking out the orange glow of the setting sun, and only the dimmed slideshow-screensaver of Ferb's laptop on the other side of the room served as a source of artificial light as it soundlessly went through a series of pictures, all of them—their parents smiling, Candace singing, Buford chasing, Baljeet running, Isabella kissing, Phineas blushing, Perry sleeping (_well, he _is_ a platypus; he doesn't do much, you know_), and finally, Phineas and Ferb, holding up tools with a row of brobots behind them, shaded by the tree in their back yard.

Phineas' eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly, and then he sighed to himself as he saw the lump lying motionlessly on top of Ferb's plum-colored comforter.

He moved quietly to sit behind his brother, seeing from Ferb's tense posture that the taller boy was not sleeping.

A few moments, and then he broke the silence with the most obvious thing he could think of (one had to start somewhere, after all).

"I'm really sorry, Ferb."

The green hair—which appeared an even darker forest-y color in the gloom of their bedroom—didn't move, but Phineas knew he had heard him.

"I know you really liked her," he tried again, "but I guess those rumors must've been true."

Ferb sighed.

There were several more minutes of silence, during which Phineas rested his hand on Ferb's narrow shoulder in what he hoped to be a comforting gesture. Then, he confessed, more to himself than to Ferb, speaking his mind again, as he always did,

"I just don't get it."

Ferb did not reply at first, but then he inquired, quietly and somewhat indifferently, "What?"

"What she was thinking, that's what," said Phineas, his tone slightly upset, which, for him, meant he was _really_ upset. "I mean, you're great. Fantastic, even. She didn't deserve you to begin with."

"Phineas." A groan, the pulling of a floppy pillow over his ear.

"No, I mean it." Phineas tugged on the corner of the pillow compellingly. "I'm not just saying that, Ferb. You're ten thousand times better than her."

"Phineas, _please_. I'd rather not have sympathy."

"I'm not giving you sympathy, Ferb!" he declared, blue eyes alight with his excitement. "Honestly. You're epic."

"_Phineas._"

But the older, smaller boy seemed to not hear his brother, or if he did, chose to ignore him as he continued, voice growing more enthused and wound up with every word, saturating the air like the most powerful speech in history, true and real and evocative.

"You're amazing, bro," he declared, rising up on his thin knees in his irritation. "You're brilliant; you're only fifteen, and you can do things _adults_ can't even figure out, like draw up accurate blueprints for a portal to Mars in less than forty-seven minutes, and put together brobots using trash from our kitchen and a choreography book, and cook lamb chops without even using any real lamb! You're like a flipping superhero, Ferb."

Ferb groaned again.

"_Really_," Phineas said, and it was almost like a whine, urgent and pleading for his brother to listen. "You can build anything I ask for, and you do it without any trouble at all. You can ice-skate like a pro, and play soccer like you're in the Olympics, and sing like _Danny Jacob_, for cripes' sake! (1) And that's not even the half of your talents. You can do anything in the whole world, even under pressure, and you know everything about everything, even stuff I've never heard of."

Ferb's fingers relaxed around the edge of the pillow as Phineas' words filled his ears.

"You're a genius at everything you do, and that's not even your best quality!" Phineas ranted on, shifting so that he could better wave his arms as he vented. "You're the coolest and funniest guy I've ever met. You can always make me laugh, and you don't even have to talk to do it. You cheer me up, and you help me stay focused and sane when everything seems so crazy."

Ferb's shoulders lost a bit of their tension.

"You never freak out or get mad, even though I know I get annoying sometimes, what with my constant talking and my occasional over-enthusiasm, and you always let me win at video games, even though you're the champion. You stay cool and supportive to everyone, and you understand how people feel when I never do. You never get arrogant, which you could, no problem—you're the most extraordinary dude in Danville! Way more extraordinary than that _girl_; what did she have to get so conceited about, anyway?"

A small chuckle, muffled beneath the pillow.

"And on top of being the smartest, coolest, funniest, nicest guy ever," Phineas added, shifting carefully behind his brother, his voice quieting as he calmed, "you're also the most handsome, too."

The pillow moved away entirely at that.

"Phineas!" came the smiling cry, as pink stained the lightly-tanned cheeks.

"Seriously," the red-haired boy guaranteed, trying to hide his grin at his brother's uncharacteristic reaction so Ferb wouldn't think he didn't mean it. "Your look like a flipping model, bro, minus the girlish self-obsession most male models exhibit."

Ferb huffed on a laugh, rolling onto his back and tossing the pillow away entirely.

"You've got everything anybody could ever want," Phineas said, with sincerity. "I'm thankful every day I'm lucky enough to have you for my brother, and all our friends love you, and then you let some stupid, snobby girl make you feel like less than what you are?"

Ferb was watching Phineas with keen eyes and a small half-smile. The smaller boy grinned at the familiar smirk, which he recognized immediately as the one that represented Ferb's zany tranquility and usual quiet happiness.

"You're Ferb Fletcher," he told him forcefully, as if the name itself was the most awesome in the universe, "engineer, artist, singer, dancer, athlete, sculptor, designer, advisor, detective, musician…"

Ferb was smiling broader as Phineas ran out of fingers, picked up his brother's left hand, and started counting on his.

"…chef, choreographer, archaeologist, historian, polyglot, wunderkind—"

"Are you finished?"

"No!" He tossed the hand down again. "That's just it, Ferb. I could go on and on about it!"

Instead of that, however, he let out a calming breath and laid down on his side, with his head on the soft pillow so that he was facing Ferb.

"You're really special, bro," he murmured, and the English boy could see that Phineas believed it with all his heart, for it was clear as glass in his wide, blue eyes. "Don't ever not think so."

"I might get a big head," Ferb warned him.

Phineas grinned.

"Nah. 'Cause then you wouldn't be Ferb anymore."

"I see."

They shared another short moment of mutual smiles, and then a call rang out from down the stairs.

"Phineas! Ferb! Lunch is ready!"

"We're coming, Mom!" Phineas shouted back, as both he and Ferb sat up.

Phineas swung his legs over the side and was just about to stand when suddenly a hand wrapped around his wrist, halting him immediately.

"Phin."

He turned back, and nearly hit his nose on Ferb's shoulder as he found himself enveloped in a totally unexpected, but not unwelcome, warm embrace.

"Thank you," a soft accent murmured in his ear. "You're the best, too, Phineas."

The red-haired boy smiled contentedly and hugged Ferb in return, silently pleased and a bit puzzled that he had somehow cheered his brother up without really trying.

"That's what makes us such a great team," he reminded.

Ferb chuckled and pulled back to look at Phineas' tanned face.

"Agreed," he said quietly. "I love you, Phin."

Phineas could not hide the pleased surprise from his expression, for that was something which often went expressed in action instead of word, but it was nice to hear it all the same.

"Love you too, Ferb." He grinned again. "Now, come on; I'm starved!"

"You're always starved," Ferb smiled as he followed him down the stairs.

"I know. I'm a growing boy."

A heartbeat, during which Ferb did not give voice to the comment which ran through his mind.

"Was that silence you letting it go, or you not mentioning the fact that I'm nearly a foot shorter than you?"

Ferb smirked, well aware this was not something which really bothered his brother, but enjoying the banter all the same.

"What do you think?"

"I'm gonna go with the latter."

"You know me so well."

"I know."

**The End**

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(1) Danny Jacob is listed as Ferb's official singing voice. Get it? Ha.

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_Not that you couldn't tell already, but this was speed-written, unbetaed, and unedited. So excuse what is probably terrible writing but will not be fixed because the writer would rather not look back over it and see exactly how terrible it is.  
Thank you and goodnight. _


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